To Ellis on a Moving Train Approaching the Speed of Light

quickly away & I’ll never be as fast as you
or your brillig in the gimble

they say & we say anyway

& you said once

daddy there are monsters
there are good monsters &
there are bad monsters

air is so fast

so much breathing to be done here
but we don’t have much time

by the time you return
I’ll be an old man

& you’ll be a week past
the sun’s birthday

you’ll still wear a dress

the monsters here are scary
the air is choking

on thorns & thrones
in mom we trust

two lightning strikes
with nothing in between

a mosquito on your tiny wrist
& after that ashes

Anthony Robinson lives and writes in Oregon. His poems have appeared in the Iowa Review, Verse, the Awl, Gulf Coast, Quarterly West, and elsewhere. A founding editor of The Canary, he is also a two-time finalist for the National Poetry Series. He spends a lot of time photographing sheds and farm animals.